Recurring dream

Note: The following is my comment regarding a recurring dream described by a social media user. The dream had persisted for more than 25 years, following his breakup with the woman depicted in the dream. The dreamer had not been in contact with her in real life since their breakup 25 years ago; however, up until recently, his old feelings and desires for her resurfaced during each recurring instance of the dream.

This is a very long duration for the recurrence of a dream, and he was wondering if something remained unresolved regarding this past relationship, and if it could be finally resolved.

My comment: The first and most difficult step, is to determine what her dream character symbolizes for you. Keep in mind that after 25 years, the real person behind the dream character doesn’t exist anymore, not in the way you knew her 25 years ago. People and circumstances change over time. What remains is the unresolved or unconscious part of you that surfaced during the actual relationship and continues to haunt you, so to speak.

Her dream character is like a shadow or ghost that wants you to recognize “something” catalyzed by your past involvement with the “once” real woman—good or bad—or that symbolizes a wound or need that goes far deeper and older than the relationship itself, but resonates with your memory of it.

I recommend exploring this symbolic ghost through whatever means works for you—art, music, introspection, dream journaling, etc.—to understand what the dream may be depicting or asking of you.

Dystopia #3: Street justice

A well known horror film actress—The Queen of the Scream—whose real name I should not mention here, is dead at 75. She died last week. And now the terror of lawlessness has arrived in my nightmares, played by her, screaming nightly since her demise, merging with my own screams.

My streetwalker pal shakes me at the scream’s climax and says, “Isaac, WAKE UP, it’s almost time for the movie,” and then soothes me without solicitation; a morning affair in exchange for chips and a 6 year old expired med. She tells me, “You can’t afford my fee, not now, Isaac. Chips and the sugar pill are good enough, and I’ll share.”

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Final hour

Blood is everywhere on this final hour of my final night. The ground gurgling from it; denuded trees drizzling with it—like red maple syrup; and strewn body parts being drained of it—gravity at work. Nature’s dramatization of the end in progress, a mental spectacle of death’s metaphor.

Red streaks the sky with a neon fluorescence; plumes of black smoke twisting into funnels, crisscrossing the expanse, headed eastbound along invisible rivers of wind. Concussive blasts multiply along the horizon, shattering my brain; the last stands of the living, dying, and hanging in limbo; the resilience of mind over matter, to observe one’s mind on self-destruct—its last hurrah!

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Breakfast with Sylvia

The outdoor billboard declares: “NO MASKS OR VIRUS HERE!”

Finally, a place that serves a decent breakfast, minus the humiliation of temperature checks and forced sanitizing. No scraps of virus riding piggyback on strips of bacon; no waitresses sneezing Covid laced pollen my way. A pre-pandemic breakfast, the way it used to be. Great money making concept, I think to myself. Breakfasts of yesteryear!

The meal is perfect! A fluffy wrap of sunshiny yellow egg stuffed with spinach, onion, mushroom,and cheddar, with strips of crispy bacon, and a side of hot cakes drizzled with a sweet maple syrup that is to die for. I’m in breakfast heaven!

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An unfamiliar world

A dream?

I awoke in a daze my friend, still partially submerged in the subconscious realm, thinking that the nightmare was true, until full consciousness kicked in. Thank God, it was just a dream! Can you imagine?

Everyone was walking around wearing masks and shields. The Sears store became a mass vaccination center! Had to sit there 15 minutes after the shot, with many others, in case the vaccine made any of us stop breathing. There was no choice in the matter, as this contagion, called Covid-19, was killing millions all over the planet. So, you either took your chances with a hastily created vaccine, or lived in fear of catching the Covid and dying an ugly death, and you would eventually. Yeah, not a choice really, unless you had a death wish.

And this vaccine was no one shot deal. You had to go back for a second one, to get more protection, maybe a third one later on, and so on. This invisible Covid was like a demon, it kept changing and mutating, finding new ways to sneak up on us, get at us. Glad it was only a dream!

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